January

It's cold, in the single digits, this morning and I can hear a lone crow in the trees behind the house reminding me that I've got food waste waiting in the sink needing to be composted. Much of that waste never makes it into the soil, at least not where I put it,  and is instead eaten by scavengers. I don't like that word much though. It's got somewhat of a derogatory connotation which should never be applied to the tough, long-suffering, hard-working, resourceful beings who eat that food. 

It's the weekend, and my schedule is changing to accommodate overnight work for the next week or so. Today, it's the middle child, and getting him boosted. He'll be 21 this month.

I think your birthday was yesterday. Forty-four now, n'it? Well, I hope it's well-celebrated and that you get to have some crepe cake in there somewhere, unless of course you've found something you like better since then. After all, that was another life. Aw, skip it. 

I just hope it was a good birthday for you.